Step Into the Ring
by ragamuffin009
Summary: On his 19th birthday, Kankurou is captured by a mysterious group and forced into the world of illegal fighting. When he meets Hinata, the two of them discover a dark secret. Meanwhile, his brother and sister search for him. Hinata-Kankurou friendship, AU.


Muffin - - and Fairo: LYING AND FIGHTERS AND SWEARS, OH MY!

Fairo: This is the first story we've worked on together!

Muffin: I like it because it's angsty!

Fairo: I like it because it has crack!

Muffin: I love Kankurou!

Fairo: I love Hinata!

Muffin: See how we balance?!

-----

It was dusk, and Kankurou was fast asleep. The ears on his cat-shaped pajamas twitched comically as he breathed in and out heavily. The clock read 1:42 AM; the boy had only been asleep for about half an hour. It was the night of his nineteenth birthday, which, in Sunagakure, was the legal drinking age. He had been out partying all day, and now he was peacefully settled between his sheets, the worst hangover in the world awaiting him in the morning. His tabby cat, Karasu, was curled in a warm ball of fur at his feet. She woke up slightly, yawned, and moved closer to her master, seemingly unaware of the sandstorm lashing against the walls of the mansion. It seemed as if nothing could wake Kankurou. Karasu purred contently, knowing that her owner of four years was going to wake up in the morning and feed her a nice big can of tuna fish, petting her and praising the sheen of her coat as he did every morning.

Little did she know that Kankurou would not be there for her that morning, or any morning, for the next five years.

---

Gaara's sea green eyes opened upon hearing a commotion coming from beyond the wall to his right. Uncurling his legs from their crossed position, Gaara gracefully raised himself off his bed. He was annoyed, honestly. He was an insomniac, and at night he enjoyed meditating, relieving the anger that the day had brought him. Hearing such a nuisance from his brother's room bothered him, and soon he found himself pounding angrily on the wall.

"KANKUROU!" He yelled, his voice muffled by at least two feet of plaster and wood. He grit his teeth together. Kankurou had just turned 19, and had been out drinking all night. The youngest sand sibling only prayed that the eldest brother hadn't brought the party home. Even Temari's party hadn't lasted this long.

There was a bang on the wall in response to Gaara's, followed by a muffled screaming and swears. Gaara's eyes narrowed. The mouth that had sworn was male, and certainly the voice was not that of his brother's. The last time Gaara checked, Kankurou wasn't gay, and this raised concern in him. Throwing open his door, Gaara turned down the hall and marched a few steps to his brother's room where he flung open the door as well.

The room was in shambles, the curtains that had adorned his windows were torn, and the bed had been completely toppled onto the floor. There were blood stains against the wall that their rooms shared. The window was open, glass scattered beneath the sill. Rushing to the window, Gaara placed his hands against the sill and leaned out, just able to catch three dark figures carrying a bundle before disappearing into the sandstorm.

Picking up his hand, he watched as a shard of glass stuck out of his palm, the blood oozing off and dripping onto the white painted wood.

"Kankurou..." Gaara muttered, his eyes glaring out into the sandstorm. "KANKUROU!!"

---

"Where's Kankurou? He's been gone for at least a week!" Temari demanded, perfectly manicured nails on her hips and sticking her lower lip out. Her father glared at her from across the room.

'_Why must my only daughter be such a nosy bitch?' _He thought. "I don't know what you're talking about. He disappears like this constantly. He's probably still out with his friends."

"Is that true, Father? You really don't know where Kankurou went? I beg to differ," Gaara said menacingly, leaning against the doorway. "I think you know exactly where he is."

"Why would _I_ know? What makes you so sure-?"

Gaara lifted his head. "Because many things have gone wrong in this family; you've been behind all of them," he said sharply. Temari burst into tears.

"Why do you say things like that, Gaara?!" She ran out of the room. Yondaime groaned.

"...Karura's death was no fault of mine," he sneered at his youngest child, "Had you never been born, she would still be alive."

"We both know whose fault it was. And it certainly was not mine. Back to more pressing issues... Where is Kankurou?" His pale eyes narrowed. "Do not cross me, old man."

"Don't you fuck with me." His voice was steady, but tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. His eyes followed Gaara's pale hand, which was reaching into the pocket of his loose-fitting jeans.

"Who's _fucking_?" He pulled his hand slightly out of his pocket, revealing a small gleam of metal. "Tell me now. _Where_ _is my brother_?"

---

Temari had not left ear shot when she fled from the room. Standing with her back to the heavy oak doors, she pressed her ear against the crack and listened in. She shivered upon hearing Gaara's words; very rarely did he swear.

"Your brother," her father said, his voice turning icy now that his daughter had 'left.' "I sold him."

"You did _what_?" Gaara growled.

She heard footsteps crossing the tiled floor of the kitchen.

"You know what kind of _activities_ I participate in, Gaara, you should know why I would have to sell him," he continued, as though selling his son was a perfectly _normal_ occurrence.

"_What activities?" _Temari muttered softly under her breath.

"Yes, I do know what _activities_ you lower yourself to doing, Yondaime," Gaara replied. "But none of those activities involve _selling_ my brother."

"It was a bet," he continued, his polished shoes clicking on the tile as he moved again. The water ran from the faucet before hitting the bottom of a glass cup. "I bet him, in a fight. If my man won, I would obtain something of equal _value. _As it was, I lost the bet, and your brother was taken."

"Where is he?" Gaara growled. "_Where is Kankurou_?"

There was a pause as the atmosphere in the room became tense.

"_That," _Yondaime replied, "is something I don't feel like telling you."

There was a scuffle and a shout, followed by the sound of a gunshot and breaking glass. Temari could hear her father fall to the floor and her brother's soft footsteps approach the older man. Yondaime was pleading, whimpering.

"Please, _please_, no," he cried out. "My son..."

"I am no son of yours...now, do you feel like telling me the truth or do you need more_ persuading_," Gaara purred.

Temari gasped, clapped a hand over her mouth and sunk to the floor. As much as she wanted to, her legs would not hold her weight long enough for her to dash into the room and stop the madness, as Kankurou had often done. She knew Gaara had a gun with him, but to use it on his own _family?_

"F-Fine! I'll tell you! Just lower your gun!" Yondaime pleaded. There was a '_hn'_ before Yondaime sighed loud enough for it to reach Temari's ears. "I s-sold him...the Hyuugas...He's with the Hyuugas! But trust me, don't go after him! They'll kill you! The Hyuugas will _never_ set foot on foreign soil...the only way to get him back would be to cross over there, where they reign...into their territory."

"I can fight those odds," Gaara replied as his footsteps grew louder as he walked towards the door.

"Gaara, you will not win, and you are prohibited from going after him!" Yondaime hissed. "I...I...forbid it!"

Gaara snorted and stopped, the handle jingling as he rested his hand on it. "Have I ever acknowledged your limitations before?" Gaara answered suavely. "Try as you might to stop me, you won't be able to. A man who cowers in fear from a _teenager_ cannot hope to control them." With that he opened the door, glanced down to his sister, and walked off towards the front door. A few seconds later, a slam echoed throughout the house as Gaara disappeared from her life for the next three years.

---

Kankurou cried out in pain as he hit the floor. His vision was obstructed by a burlap sack that was cinched around his throat by a thick cord. The bag was ripped off of his head by, he presumed, the man who was also holding his hands behind his back. He gasped and wheezed until the sweet relief of much-needed air filled his lungs. Dazed, he lifted his eyes to meet a pair of black polished shoes, which were resting on a set of intricately carved marble stairs. Despite the fact that he was barely conscious and still gasping for breath, he couldn't help but notice how horribly they clashed with the dirty cement floor his face had met a second before.

He gasped sharply as a hand gripped the back of his hair and forced his head upwards. His vision flashed from the expensive shoes to an equally expensive-looking man. He was old, judging by the mass of wrinkles that lined his face, and his eyes were white. They were really pale ivory if you wanted to get poetic. Since Kankurou wasn't a very poetic person, he called them white. Digressing back to the man's appearance. He had long dark brown hair tied into a ponytail. Judging by the suit he was wearing, Kankurou assumed that this was the man he should ask the profound question burning in the back of his mind.

"WHAT THE _HELL_!?" He screamed.

He was met with a kick to the stomach, causing him to be sick onto the floor and groan. His head was forced up in the same manner that it was before. The old man was frowning now.

"Such language," He sighed, shaking his head.

"Hey! I'm drunk! Shitfaced! Fucked! Hammered! Plashtered! Half in the bag!" Kankurou yelled in reply. "I'll use whatever the fuck _language_ I want, ya old bashtard! Fuck! Fucking fuckity fucker o' fuckdom! Fu-" he stopped short, anticipating another kick from the man behind him.

The man held up his hand, motioning for the other to stop. Kankurou gulped as he stepped sedately down the stairs.

"I am Hiashi Hyuuga," he said in a pleasant tone, as though unaware of the grim scene unfolding on the floor in front of him. "And, as of 3:20 this morning, you belong to me."

"Wh-what!?" Kankurou sputtered, his eyes widening. "Nobody _owns_ me! Not even my father."

"Funny," he replied, pale eyes full of cold mirth, "it is he who gave you to me. Either way, you have no choice but to do as I say."

"And why don' I 'ave a choice?" Kankurou challenged. "Jus' 'cause I'm drunk an' tied up?"

"Well," Hiashi smiled sweetly, although venom laced his words, "it's in your best interests... If you care for your sister." Kankurou was shocked sober for a second.

"You bastard. Don't you touch my sister!" Hiashi smiled again, and signaled to the other man. Kankurou tried to lunge at him, but he was too late. His vision went dark and fell to the floor with a dull thud.

---

He woke up slowly and lifted his head from the floor, groggily. Kankurou noticed immediately that he was no longer wearing a shirt. He looked around. It was dark, but he could tell he wasn't in the same room any more. It felt somehow _ominous_, this new room. he tried to get up, but was knocked down again. He looked up and squinted at the man who did it. There was a shadow across his face.

"Wh.. wha?" Kankurou muttered. The man smiled. In his hand, he held what looked like a thick leather strip. He raised it above his head and then brought it down hard on Kankurou's back.

"Welcome to Hell, kid."

-----

Next Chapter is Fairo's!


End file.
